


Regina's Trial in FTL

by fictorium (orphan_account)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina is facing execution, just what is Emma going to do about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regina's Trial in FTL

The guards grumble and protest and one even tries to outright refuse, but Emma gives him the kind of ass-kicking he would never have expected from a Princess. Whether it’s her newly-reclaimed title or the fact that she studied Krav Maga, the men relent and let her into the locked tower that holds a cell befitting a Queen. Emma takes the winding staircase step by desperate step, unsure of what she’ll find at the top.

*

Regina hears the commotion and dismisses it, because these guards are a rowdy bunch at the best of times, and she has no time for their boorish behavior. She snaps her fingers in agitation, starting a small fire in the careless way she used to in her teens, before she learned control. She’s rusty, and restless from being held captive this way.

She hears the footsteps and groans, wondering which sanctimonious visitor Snow has sent now.

*

The room is surprisingly dark, Emma finds, although there’s a smell of fresh smoke in the air. It takes a long moment to discover Regina, tucked away in a high-backed chair and staring out of the tall, narrow window.

“If you tilt your head just right,” Regina says, “you can see the place where I’m to be executed tomorrow.”

“That’s not a foregone conclusion,” Emma says softly, and Regina’s head whips around in apparent surprise. 

“You?” Regina asks, incredulous. “Tonight, of all nights?”

“Me,” Emma confirms. “And how could I not come to you? I would have come sooner, but it took a while to be allowed to leave the castle.”

“Your parents are so protective,” Regina snaps, sneering.

“Hey!” Emma warns, because for all the issues she’s having with her newly-discovered family, it’s rude of Regina to mock them after causing all this separation and pain. “We’re all… learning to adjust.”

“Well, enjoy adjusting to life without me,” Regina sighs, feeling sorry for herself. She doesn’t seem scared, or angry; just resigned, and about as tired as Emma has ever seen her.

*

Hearing Emma’s voice is like a swift, sharp slap.

It’s been so difficult not to think of Emma, with her tender kisses and her tough exterior and her impossibly golden hair. Regina has trained herself not to since they arrived back here in her real world, when Regina was thrown in this royal prison without Henry, without the woman who had become her lover (and broken the damn curse in the first place).

Emma looks impossibly good, too, Regina notes as her eyes drink in the sight. The leather pants are not quite as tight as Emma’s favored jeans, but the blouse looks good on her. Silk, fit for the Princess that Emma turned out to be. 

They bicker, and Regina practices again at saying her fate out loud. She wants to rage, to terrify and threaten and find a way out, but it’s been such a long time of fighting wars on every front, and Regina doesn’t have the stomach for this last battle. Perhaps that’s all death is, in the end: admitting defeat.

“Will you do one thing for me?” Regina asks, breaking an uncomfortable silence. “For Henry, really.”

*

Emma nods without even thinking about it, because if she’s willing to do most things for Regina, then she’s willing to do anything for the son they’ve come to share.

“Make sure…” Regina trails off, words seeming to fail her. “Whatever is said about me, no matter how hard it is to hear, can you make sure he knows…” Finishing the sentence is beyond her, and Emma finds herself stepping in.

“That you love him?” Emma confirms, gently. “He already knows, Regina. But I will keep telling him. Every day, if I have to.”

“Then you can go,” Regina says, every bit the imperious Queen for a moment. But Emma is not her subject, and wouldn’t be inclined to listen even if she were.

“Regina,” Emma finds herself saying, and it’s the saddest thing she’s ever heard. Emma moves towards the chair, and finds herself reaching out to caress Regina’s cheek. (Her hair is long here, just one of the many transformations Emma finds so jarring.) Regina leans into the touch, in spite of herself, and although she closes her eyes, a tear still falls and splashes on Emma’s hand.

*

She’s been so determined not to cry that the tears take even Regina by surprise. The moment of comfort Emma offers is sudden and thus impossible to resist. Regina is aware of Emma sinking to her knees in front of the chair, another act of devotion that Regina can hardly bear.

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispers, before placing her lips softly on Regina’s own. It’s a peck, the fleeting suggestion of a kiss really, but Emma does it again and then again until Regina responds. 

“No,” Regina murmurs against Emma’s mouth, because the only way she can face tomorrow is by being sure she’s lost everything. “I can’t,” she says, and it sounds like a sob.

“Please,” Emma begs, and it’s that face that caused all this in the first place; a face Regina has no defense against, no magic trick to halt the effects.

“I—” Regina starts to argue, marshalling the arguments about why there cannot be one last time. But she stands, instead, and leads Emma towards the bed.

*

Emma wakes before dawn, still clinging to Regina, who’s somehow fallen into a deep sleep. There’s noise coming from outside the window, the one place Emma can’t bear to look. With careful movements she pulls away from Regina, her heart breaking a little further when Regina reaches blindly for Emma in her sleep.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Emma thinks, pulling on her clothes. It was supposed to be a happy ending, but today Regina stands trial in a place where due process is made up according to what the King or Queen of the day finds ‘fair’, and Emma can’t place her trust in anyone when the stakes are this high.

She creeps out and back down the stairs, sweeping past the (changed) guards without betraying how close she is to tears. Perhaps she should have left a note, Emma considers too late, but this day will be long and painful enough without trying to put these feelings into words. 

Back in her bedroom before the sun rises, Emma looks at her reflection in the ornate mirror, not quite recognizing herself at first. But then she sees it—the determined set of her jaw and the resolve in the twist of her mouth. She can do this. She can make this right.

*

Regina offers no defense in court, having turned down the few offers of representation and nodding in response to each charge levelled at her by the officious little man from Snow White’s court. The King and Queen sit on their thrones in judgment, and most unbearably, Emma and Henry sit in smaller thrones on either side. Emma has been forced into a gown for the occasion, a shimmering deep green silk that suits her so very well that Regina is distracted by it.

It doesn’t take long to run through the performance, as though anyone here believes that the decision has not already been made. As Snow leans in to consult with her husband, the court is stunned into silence by Emma getting to her feet and shouting “enough!”.

“Emma,” Snow begins to say, reaching for her daughter’s arm, but Emma shrugs it off. “Come here, kid,” she snaps at Henry, who jumps up to do exactly as he’s told. Regina is stunned by the resolve on both their faces.

And then Emma is crossing the grand room in long strides, dragging Henry along until they reach Regina and each take one of her hands. “Enough,” Emma says again, but this time she’s talking only to Regina.

“Emma!” Snow is yelling now, her eyes filling with tears as she realizes the choice her daughter is making.

“Please,” Emma whispers to Regina, leaning in close. “Please tell me you do still have your magic—the smoke last night suggested you do.”

“Yes, but—” Regina could point out that there are enchantments on the room, and on the castle, but she already knows she’s more powerful than they are. She’s been accepting of her fate because she had nowhere to run to, but it seems that Emma Swan is once again offering an unlikely escape. 

And Henry is right there, too. It’s like a miracle, after the past few years. Regina feels her power surging within her, grounded by the hands she’s holding in each of hers. Some things are more powerful, more rooted in elemental forces stronger than the magic itself. 

“Are you sure?” Regina asks, because there can be no taking this back.

“As sure as I’ll ever be,” Emma says, completely calm. “Now maybe…”

Regina can take the hint, even as the guards are summoned and come rushing towards her. She mutters the incantations from memory, and from hope, focusing hard on the life she left behind when Emma said ‘I love you’.

The darkness comes rushing in, clouds that engulf the three of them and send them spinning through the air. Regina can feel herself weakening, can feel the unthinkable toll it’s taking on her body, but she grits her teeth and thinks of stupid jokes about lobsters and white picket fences that are never quite straight.

*

When she comes to, Emma looks up to see a familiar apple tree stretching out over her. She sighs, because even this remote corner of the castle grounds will not be enough of a head start, and she has no wish to be imprisoned by her own parents. 

She turns towards Regina, who’s still gripping her hand, and realizes in the process that they’re lying on grass—not the hard stone of a courtyard.

“Oh God,” Regina mutters, though it’s drowned out by Henry’s squeal.

“You did it, Mom!”

Emma sits up, gingerly, and blinks a few times to confirm what her eyes are telling her. Beside her, Regina does the same, before leaning in close to whisper.

“Welcome home.”


End file.
